


That Boy

by FriendlyNonMurdering



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alpha Jesse McCree, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Arranged Marriage, Deadlock Jesse McCree, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Omega Hanzo Shimada, Smoking, mentions of mpreg, ugly first meeting, young mchanzo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-11
Updated: 2018-02-25
Packaged: 2019-03-16 15:43:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13639278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FriendlyNonMurdering/pseuds/FriendlyNonMurdering
Summary: Jesse saw each of Hanzo’s fingers clench tighter around his bow until his knuckles were white. He saw the look of pure rage and unadulterated hatred on Hanzo’s face as he turned and launched the arrow directly at Jesse’s face.Jesse would be lying if he said he didn’t scream when the arrow came at him, but he would be hard-pressed to tell anybody the truth of the terrified squeal he’d unleashed. Of all the things Jesse had been expecting from the young Shimada omega, beingshot atwas not one of them.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first thing I've written in two weeks, and I still don't even know that I like it. Various and numerous tropes aside, I hope you enjoy!
> 
> I always forget the fuckkkkin summary

“How long’s this gonna take?” Jesse asked.

Somehow, as he rolled his neck and stretched his shoulders, the sliding doors in front of him were one of the most intimidating things he’d ever seen in his life, and Jesse had seen a lot of things in his twenty-three years.

This, however, was far different than facing down the cops in a gunfight or getting beaten up for disobeying orders. This wasn’t the same as kicking the shit out of an Omnic because it existed. This wasn’t something he could run from.

A glance at his boss confirmed that, no, Jesse had no mode of escape this time. If he tried anything, he’d be dragged back kicking and screaming or shot dead to spare everyone the trouble.

Not that Jesse had any intentions of running. It wasn’t as if he was scared. It was a situation that he had no experience with, and it made butterflies stir in his stomach like a hurricane. Anxiety was far different than fear. Jesse wasn’t a man that easily bent to fear.

“Be polite,” his boss reminded him.

“I got it,” Jesse replied. “I don’t need my damn hand held, as much as you seem to think so.”

“I know what you’re like,” was the clipped response.

“A perfect gentleman?” Jesse snarked.

“Watch it, McCree,” his boss sneered.

They fell silent after that, waiting for something to happen. The waiting was driving Jesse crazy. He could smell a variety of scents permeating through the rice paper doors, and it was making him go nuts. There were some smells that he was familiar with—mostly those that he associated with food—but there were plenty of new ones drifting around. He wondered if the people on the other side of the door were sniffing at the air, too, trying to get a grip on who exactly it was on the other side.

Jesse’s stomach grumbled at the thought of food. Hadn’t they been made to wait for long enough? First, they had to wait at the airport for the flight, then in front of the airport for their transport to pick them up. _Then_ they had to wait in what was definitely a holding cell, despite nobody admitting to it being a holding cell, while the guards went through their luggage to make sure that they hadn’t brought any weapons, as promised. Jesse felt naked without Peacekeeper strapped to his hip, but he’d been told that absolutely _zero_ strangers were allowed to bring weapons to the castle.

Jesse had to hold his tongue on that matter. How was he a stranger if he was destined to marry one of the men that resided in this castle?

As if on cue, the _shoji_ inched open. A girl with a neutral scent peeked her face out at them from between the panels of the sliding doors. The smells from behind her buffeted Jesse, and he breathed in deeply. Laced under the scent of the food, there was another aroma that made Jesse’s gut churn with excitement that he couldn’t quite place. He knew that the Clan Head’s son was an omega, but Jesse had very little experience with omegas.

“The master Shimada and young Lord are waiting for you,” she said in lilting English.

Jesse restrained the urge to roll his eyes. The Shimadas were waiting for _them_? Certainly, she meant to say that the other way around.

His boss, the oddly psychic man that he was, elbowed Jesse in the side _hard_ before he could say anything. Right. Be polite. Jesse almost rolled his eyes _again_.

Instead of giving in to the urge, Jesse bowed in time with his boss the way they had been taught to do.

The woman on the other side of the door bowed back and then allowed them through the shifting panels.

In the center of the massive, spacious room was a table that was laden high with foods that all smelled tantalizing despite Jesse not knowing what half of them were. The lights above reflected the shine of fried meats and thick soups. Jesse had to work to keep his mouth shut. Drool piled thickly under his tongue at the onslaught of delicious scents.

On one side of the table sat two men, straight-backed and expressions impassive.

The older of the two, while impressive and handsome in his own right, could never hope to hold a candle to his son, in Jesse’s most honest opinion.

The Shimada son was all but pouting next to his father. His lips were pursed, showing his displeasure as clear as day. Oh, but that did nothing to take away from how beautiful he was. His long hair fell across his face, only some of it tied back into a loose, low ponytail. He sat with his broad shoulders back, stretching his unfamiliar traditional garb tightly across his chest. He had his hands in his lap, though Jesse could still see the little fidgets of his fingers. His dark, thick eyebrows were drawn tightly together, bunching the space between them in a deep furrow.

His amber eyes darted up, sensing Jesse’s gaze on him. Jesse had never once felt more like a fish about to be snapped up by an eagle’s talons than in that moment, under the young Shimada Lord’s scrutinizing gaze.

Jesse barely caught himself, hastening to dip into a deep bow alongside his boss once more.

“It is an honor to see you again, Lord Shimada Sojiro,” Jesse’s boss said, all smooth words and honeyed tone. “And it is my greatest pleasure to make your acquaintance, young Lord Shimada,” he continued, all while still in his deep bow.

Jesse glanced up from where he stood, examining both Shimadas. The older man seemed pleased enough by the display, but his son only frowned deeper. He caught Jesse’s gaze once more, who made sure to look away posthaste. Being pinned under the young Shimada’s stare was making Jesse hot under the collar. He’d never felt so nervous in the presence of an omega before. If it weren’t for the aroma wafting from the young Lord’s direction, soft like flowers but with an undercurrent of rain and smoke, Jesse wouldn’t have thought that he was an omega at all.

“I, too, am glad to see that you are doing well,” the older Shimada replied. “And the young man with you must be…?” he trailed off. Jesse caught the vague wave the older Shimada gave in his direction.

Jesse’s boss rose out of his bow. Figuring he could do the same, Jesse began to straighten A heavy hand on the back of Jesse’s head pushed him back down insistently. Jesse grunted as his boss shoved him back down. He flicked his eyes up to glare, but only the young Lord was paying him any mind. Jesse got the distinct impression that that stare was becoming more unfriendly by the second, and it hadn’t exactly started out nice to begin with.

“Jesse McCree, my second in command,” his boss introduced. “The one that I told you about.”

“Ah, yes,” Sojiro said. “I thought you informed me that he was an alpha?” the man asked, suspicion creeping into his tone. “I can’t smell him.”

Jesse bit back any scathing comments that burned at the tip of his tongue. This wasn’t a time to go ranting because of a short temper. He hadn’t come here today to be beheaded for being a shit.

“Scent blockers, Lord Shimada,” his boss explained. “So as not to upset your sons,” he continued.

Sojiro nodded at this, pleased by the consideration of his omega sons, but the son that sat with him flared his nostrils in frustration. Jesse watched, fascinated, as a muscle jumped in the Shimada son’s jaw. He was obviously holding back whatever thoughts he may have been having, just as Jesse was doing. 

Jesse furrowed his eyebrows. He wanted to know what kind of snide remarks the Shimada son was forming in that pretty head of his. Jesse doubted that he was the type of omega to roll over at anyone’s command, so he was immediately curious about him.

“He’s gone into a rut before?” Lord Shimada asked.

Jesse couldn’t help it; his cheeks burned hot at the question. He’d been told to anticipate questions like this, but no amount of imagining a pretend man asking him about it could prepare Jesse for the embarrassing reality of being asked about something as private as ruts.

“Yes, Lord Shimada,” his boss said. “He’s a monster during them, almost impossible to control.”

Jesse’s cheeks and ears flamed even hotter than before. He could feel the heat creeping all the way down to his chest as he flushed in embarrassment. He was a young alpha with intense and lonely ruts; it wasn’t as if he wanted to act the way he did during them. It didn’t help that Jesse had never had proper alpha role models to teach him to reel in his aggression and agitation during those times.

Lord Shimada hummed in approval. “And my son’s first heat was not too long ago. This will work out marvelously as far as the production of an heir is concerned.”

That muscle—as well as a vein in his temple—in the young Lord’s jaw, popped to the foreground. Jesse could see him physically restrain himself from saying anything about the matter. He wondered if the young Lord was just as embarrassed as Jesse was, being talked about as if they were objects, rather than human beings in the same room.

“Come, that is enough of introductions. Sit and eat, lest this food go to waste,” Sojiro urged.

Finally, Jesse was allowed to stand again. He rolled his head from side to side, easing the crick after being held down for so long.

He followed his boss to kneel at the table piled high with food. His boss sat across from Lord Shimada, and Jesse sat across from the young Lord. Neither of them said a word to each other, but Jesse’s boss and Sojiro began to speak animatedly with one another. After only a few seconds, Jesse’s knees and feet began to scream about being tucked up under his body.

A servant, a different young woman than from before, went around the table and began to dole out the food, with Jesse last in the order. Something distinctly _alpha_ in him itched to see the Shimada omega begin to eat before him, but he pushed that down. He may not have control over his emotions during ruts, but there was no excuse for allowing his hindbrain to take control over something as simple as dinner.

As his boss and Sojiro spoke and ate, Jesse stole furtive, fleeting glances at the younger Shimada. He didn’t know the other man’s name, but he wished that he did. How many soon-to-be-weds didn’t know the other’s name? But knowing it was out of line to speak right then, Jesse kept his trap shut.

He settled for just watching. The young Lord picked at his food. He only took a bite when his father turned to look at him or speak to him directly. His brows pinched, or his jaw clenched whenever his father brought up something to do with him to the two relative strangers. He became especially withdrawn on the multiple occasions Sojiro mentioned pregnancy and heirs, and Jesse was right there with him, turning his head away to try and block out the unpleasant conversation.

“So, Jesse, what do you think?” Sojiro asked.

Jesse snapped to attention so quickly; he nearly dropped his bowl of dark-glazed chicken and rice. He may have missed most of the conversation, but he didn’t miss the way the Shimada son’s gaze became even more intense.

“Sorry, Lord Shimada, could’ya repeat that?” Jesse asked.

His boss looked horrified, but Lord Shimada didn’t seem to mind at all. His expression was mildly unreadable though, so maybe Jesse was way off the mark and was about to lose his head to a samurai sword hidden under the table.

“What do you think of this marriage?” he paused. “What do you think of my son?” Sojiro clarified.

“Oh, uh—” Jesse clamped his mouth shut, not wanting to seem like too much of an idiot. He could be eloquent at the best of times, but this wasn’t something he would consider a ‘best time’ for himself. He glanced at his boss, who had his eyebrows raised expectantly. Right. _Be polite_.

“I think that…” Jesse paused, looking over his glaring, if mildly curious, husband-to-be. “I think that he’s mighty beautiful and handsome. I’d think it’d be an honor to live my life with him and unite Deadlock with the Shimada-gumi,” Jesse said, watching the twin grins spread on his boss’s and Lord Shimada’s faces. “But…”

Sojiro’s grin fell immediately. “But…?” he parroted.

“But, I wanna know what he thinks, too,” Jesse finished.

The young Lord’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline. He glanced to his father, who wore a distinctly Be Polite look on his face. Jesse had been on the receiving end of that look for so long now, that he could easily catch it on Sojiro’s face. The young Shimada nodded to his father. He turned back to Jesse and considered him heavily. Jesse put on his best grin and looked back at him. He was more than impressed by the way the omega held his stare unflinchingly.

“I think…” the young Lord paused, just as Jesse had.

Jesse was already head over heels. His voice was like that of a God’s. Not at all what Jesse had been expecting, but rich and deep and glorious in all the right ways. Jesse wanted nothing more than to hear him speak for forever. He almost missed what the young Shimada had to say about him.

“I think that he is the reason I can no longer be happy,” he said, with a palpable air of finality to his words.

That time, Jesse dropped his bowl, and it clattered loudly on the table, sending chicken and rice splattering. The young Lord stood and excused himself. Even his father seemed horrified of what he’d said, but had yet to react.

It didn’t take long for Sojiro to recover. The snap of the _shoji_ as it closed, signaling the young Lord’s exit, brought him back to reality.

“HANZO!” the man roared. He stood, and charged after his son.

Jesse was too busy gaping like a fish, stunned that he had complimented the young man only to be verbally smacked in the face in return.

Hanzo.

What a beautiful name.

The angry Japanese shouting flew over Jesse’s head, but the resounding _smack!_ that cracked through the words was unmistakable. Jesse jumped to his feet in an instant, ready to chase after the surly omega and make sure that he was safe from harm. A servant of the family was in the room just as fast and prevented Jesse from leaving to intervene like he wanted to.

“Lord Shimada apologizes for his son’s rudeness but insists that you both finish your meal. After you have finished, you will be escorted to your rooms,” he explained.

Jesse’s boss had no qualms about continuing to eat, but it took Jesse much longer to sit back down, staring at the servant the entire time. The man stared back unflinchingly. Jesse felt bitter as he picked up his discarded bowl, and poked at the food that remained. 

His appetite had all but vanished. After the servant left, Jesse wolfed down the last of his food so that he wouldn’t be hungry later in the night. Despite the delicious food in his mouth, Jesse’s thoughts swarmed about Hanzo and his wellbeing.

 

 

Jesse itched for a smoke. His mind was overly active, in a place that smelled entirely unlike himself or home in Deadlock Gorge. He’d always been nervous enough when it came to hotels, let alone in a place such as Shimada Castle. Sure, these men were no enemies, but that did not make Jesse feel any safer.

And his mind was still preoccupied with what had happened earlier in their day.

Since Hanzo had stormed away, followed by his father, Jesse had not seen hide nor hair of a single Shimada. He supposed that was okay, he did prefer to have his own space, but his curiosity still burned about the mysterious young Lord.

Jesse couldn’t stop thinking about what Hanzo had said. That it was Jesse’s fault that he could no longer be happy. What in the _hell_ did that mean?

Jesse grumbled to himself as he dug through his luggage for a smoke and his lighter. He considered lighting up right there in the room but thought better of it at the last second. It had been hard enough to get the guards to let him keep his smokes in the first place. The whole Castle was already overly-strict, Jesse couldn’t even walk around without scent-blocking cologne. What made him think he would be allowed to smoke indoors?

He stuffed his pack of cigarettes and his lighter into the pockets of his Deadlock-ordained leather jacket. Jesse pushed open the _shoji_ of his room that led outside, and peered both ways. No one was around. At least, no one that he could see. Just because he couldn’t see anybody didn’t mean that they weren’t keeping an eye on him. Jesse hadn’t bothered to look for cameras or microphones in his room; he already knew that there would be too many to get rid of. He also didn’t want to deal with the repercussions of weaseling out said devices.

Keeping his senses alert, Jesse left his room and wandered off the raised porch-like structures and onto the gravel pathway. He had no idea where he was going, but he assumed it would be safest to smoke as far away from the old buildings as possible if he didn’t want to be caught.

Jesse paused under a bare _sakura_ tree and lit his first cigarette. He took a longer first drag than usual, letting the nicotine settle in him and soothe the burning itch under his skin.

He smoked through the entirety of his first cigarette before the itch began to whittle away. His mind begged him to stay busy with thoughts of Hanzo—how beautiful he was, how lovely his voice was, how piercing his eyes were, how cruel his words were—but the anxious feelings were abated by nicotine. There was nothing to be done about Hanzo Shimada. Besides, Jesse would see him again some other day. Maybe then he could ask what crawled up his ass and died. 

Jesse tucked the butt of his cigarette back into the case before pulling out the next. His supply was limited in Japan—he probably wouldn’t get more of the brand he liked until he returned to New Mexico—but he still had a desperate need to smoke to give himself _something_ to do.

As Jesse lit his second, he began to walk along the gravel path. The ground crunched loudly under his boots, making him feel like a clumsy foal. Inevitably, he thought about Hanzo. Even when storming away, Hanzo moved as silent as a wraith. Jesse shoved his lighter and cigarette pack into his pockets and puffed on his second smoke.

He really wanted to see Hanzo again. He couldn’t get his betrothed out of his head. It was probably normal for people getting married, but Jesse wasn’t used to having such an unabated curiosity about another person.

The moon glimmered high above Jesse as he walked, letting him know for just how long he had been outside smoking for. No many how many corners he turned, it seemed Shimada Castle never stopped. Occasionally, he ran into the massive, towering walls that separated Hanamura from those inside, but sooner rather than later, he’d end up back in the labyrinthian castle courtyards.

Wistfully, dismayed that he had smoked through the second without abating the urge, Jesse dropped the cigarette butt into the case. He picked up a third. He was going to regret smoking so many when he ran out of them in only a couple days.

_Thwack_!

Jesse, cigarette between his teeth and lighter half a second away from being lit, looked up at the noise.

_Thwack_!

There it was again! Jesse furrowed his thick eyebrows. The noise didn’t repeat, so Jesse lit his cigarette. He took a drag, and let the smoke settle on his tongue.

_Thwack_!

Now more curious than ever, Jesse let his ears guide him to the source of the noise. It was constant and repetitive, with very short breaks every few minutes as Jesse wandered. It didn’t take Jesse very long to find the source of the noise

A giant grass and gravel field stretched out in front of him. It was pristine and extremely well-kept, like the rest of the Shimada Castle grounds. At one end of the field, a line of targets. In the center of each target, three shafts of arrows, each almost directly on top of the next.

In the center of the field, walking to fetch his arrows, Hanzo Shimada. His hair was done up higher and more precisely than earlier in the day, but Jesse could recognize the wide set of his shoulders and the proud way he carried himself from a mile away.

Hanzo stormed to each target and yanked the arrows from where they had been embedded as if each one of them had personally wronged him. He made it look like pulling toothpicks from butter, but Jesse knew better. Each time Hanzo ripped an arrow from the target, the muscles along his exposed left side rippled. Jesse could only imagine how much strength he was exerting to pull the arrows from the targets.

Hanzo stuck the arrows into the quiver strung over his back and then retreated to the other end of the field. Jesse thanked his lucky stars that he’d held back and hadn’t been seen. Hanzo looked positively livid, with storm clouds darkening his expression. Jesse didn’t want to be on the receiving end of Hanzo’s ire for longer than necessary, and _especially_ not when he was wielding such a deadly weapon. 

Hanzo knocked an arrow and drew the bowstring back with deceptive ease and fluidity. Jesse watched, entranced, as Hanzo let arrow after arrow fly into the targets, never missing a beat. 

Jesse had no idea, until Hanzo drew back the last arrow in his quiver, just how close he had absentmindedly wandered. Drops of sweat rolled down Hanzo’s temples and trailed across the strong column of his throat. His chest heaved with the force and ferocity he’d put into every arrow. His eyebrows twitched, and his nostrils flared. Jesse saw each of Hanzo’s fingers clench tighter around his bow until his knuckles were white. He saw the look of pure rage and unadulterated hatred on Hanzo’s face as he turned and launched the arrow directly at Jesse’s face.

Jesse would be lying if he said he didn’t scream when the arrow came at him, but he would be hard-pressed to tell anybody the truth of the terrified squeal he’d unleashed.

He whipped around to stare longingly, and in more than a little horror, at his hat. His signature hat that had been comfortably on the top of his head one second, and then torn away and stuck into the building behind him by an arrow the next. 

“Jesus Christ!” Jesse exclaimed. A hand flew to the top of his head, making sure that Hanzo’s arrow had only taken his hat.

“What are you doing here?!” Hanzo snarled.

“Didya hafta shoot my fuckin’ head?” Jesse snapped back. “You coulda killed me!” 

“I don’t care!” Hanzo yelled, getting right up into Jesse’s face. 

Jesse immediately backed off, overcome with the urge to pacify Hanzo, to roll over and beg forgiveness for what he’d done. He would probably drop to his hands and knees and start kissing Hanzo’s shoes if Hanzo told him to. Jesse’s thoughts screeched to a halt. Was that _normal_?

Despite getting Jesse to physically back away from him, Hanzo was not done. He maintained the bare inches of space between them and somehow managed to look down his nose at Jesse despite being shorter than him. “Get away from here! You should not have been allowed out of your room!” 

Jesse let out a soft, pleading whine, which took Hanzo by as much surprise as it took Jesse.

“I just wanted a smoke,” Jesse said, biting back the growling in his tone despite how much he wanted to spit and hiss. “I didn’t mean to stumble on you like this!”

“You should not be smoking either,” Hanzo growled. “Retrieve your hat and leave at once. I have already had to deal with you for much longer today than I ever care to.”

Jesse’s eyebrows shot up. The desperate desire to have Hanzo forgive him clawed away at his guts, but Jesse McCree wasn’t about to let some haughty prince step all over him. He was Deadlock, for fuck’s sake!

“ _Deal_ with me? Sugar, you insulted me and then ran away to throw a tantrum. My first impression of you ain’t all that great, either. Like I said, I didn’t mean ta invade your space; I’d mightily appreciate it if you’d not bite my head off fer an honest mistake.”

Hanzo’s brows furrowed and he frowned at Jesse. Now that he had backed off somewhat, though his chest was still puffing angrily, Jesse could see a nasty purple bruise blooming under his eye and across his cheek. It didn’t take a genius to put two and two together that it was from when Hanzo had been struck earlier. Jesse frowned back at Hanzo.

“Where’d you get that shiner?” Jesse asked, although he had a very clear idea of where it had come from.

Hanzo all but bristled at Jesse. His lip curled, revealing his straight white teeth in a defensive growl. “That is hardly any of your business,” he replied.

Jesse crossed his arms over his chest. His first instinct was to fawn and paw at Hanzo, but somehow, he got the inkling that Hanzo would _not_ appreciate Jesse invading his space more than he already was.

“You just nearly shot my damn head off, and in a few months, yer gon’ be my husband, so I do believe that it is my business,” Jesse countered.

Just when Hanzo had seemed to calm down, his eyes snapped up to Jesse’s, alight with rage. “Do not _dare_ to mention that to me,” Hanzo hissed. “I came here to forget all that. But here you are, ruining things once again.”

Hanzo’s returning anger only served to stoke the embers of Jesse’s dying frustration.

“Yeah, about that, the hell did you mean when you said I’m the reason you c’ain’t be happy anymore? I haven’t done a damn thing to you. I ain’t even said a word to you before today.”

Hanzo rolled his eyes. “It is not you.” Jesse huffed in annoyance. “Is it the idea of you and what… _this_ means,” Hanzo spat. His nose curled.

That managed to catch Jesse’s attention. He was no less frustrated, but now his curiosity had returned, too.

“Whatcha mean by that?” Jesse asked.

Hanzo’s façade cracked for half a second. An unsure flicker downward of his eyes, an unhappy pull to the corners of his lips. It was just long enough for Jesse to see the hurt under the stoicism before the mask was back in place. 

“This has been decided since my birth. I always knew that I would be the one to marry a stranger. More recently, the specifics of my being an omega have made my situation even more particular.” Hanzo paused. He shook his head as if to clear his thoughts. “I should not be telling you this. This is something that must be done for my family. The alliance we will forge is as necessary as it is powerful. And an heir will solidify the alliance for years to come.”

Jesse couldn’t help but feel that Hanzo had gone from genuine to rehearsed in the blink of an eye. He sighed slowly. His frustration was back down to a soft simmer.

“I understand why ya snapped,” he said. “I don’t think that I deserved it, but now I understand.”

Hanzo’s eyes widened. His lips were still pulled down at the corners. He looked like a miserable dog being offered the first bone of its life.

“I will not apologize,” Hanzo said. “My father and family have forced my hand, and I am unhappy. You being here for the next two weeks has accentuated my displeasure.”

“Look, y’ain’t gotta like me,” Jesse began. Hanzo looked taken aback. “And I ain’t ever gonna touch you if you don’t want it,” he continued. “We kiss at the weddin’, and it’s over,” he explained.” S’far as an heir goes, it ain’t like we ain’t got options. I don’t ever gotta touch ya if ya don’t want it.”

Hanzo narrowed his eyes as Jesse, but the sliver of hope shined like a lighthouse on a stormy night. Jesse mourned the suspicion that shrouded that hope. If he was going to spend the rest of his life intertwined with someone else’s, he at least wanted that someone to like him a little bit. He wasn’t looking for love, but some respect would be nice.

“Hell, if you’re so damn against it all, we can work to sabotagin’ our weddin’,” Jesse offered.

Hanzo cracked a tiny smile, but it was gone in a flash. “As amusing as that idea is, you and I would both be punished at the first sign of trouble.” His voice faded into nothing. For a moment, the only sound was the wind rattling the bare tree branches. “Why are you offering this to me?” he asked. “I have never known an alpha to turn down the opportunity to breed an omega.”

“In all fairness, sugar,” Jesse said, attempting not to let Hanzo’s comment needle him, “how many alphas you known?”

Hanzo looked appropriately chastised. “Not many,” he answered.

“And I ain’t known many omegas, but it seems to me that you don’t much like bein’ generalized the way your father does it to you. And I ain’t much of a fan of it, neither.”

Hanzo raised his eyes to look at Jesse. “I will apologize for that.”

“Thank you kindly,” Jesse said.

He took a step back from Hanzo and stuck out his hand, who eyed it like it might bite him.

“Name’s Jesse McCree, darlin’. I know we ain’t been introduced properly, and I wanted ta fix that.”

Hanzo continued to stare at Jesse’s hand before finally accepting it. They shook once, and then once Hanzo got his hand back, he stooped into a low, polite bow.

“Shimada Hanzo. It will be expected of my father—and I permit it—that you refer to me as Hanzo. Or, as you seem so apt to do, your slew of American terms of endearment will suffice.”

Jesse cracked a grin at Hanzo. He sloppily bowed back. He heard Hanzo snort, presumably at his terrible form.

“Promise you won’t bite my head off just because of the whole marriage thing?” Jesse asked. “Soon as the weddin’ is over, I’ll scurry off to America, and you don’t gotta see me anymore.”

“I suppose that none of this was your idea or your fault. Thank you for taking my comfort into your consideration. I had not expected you to be able to do so,” Hanzo said.

Jesse knew he meant well, but his words were a smack to the face. “Babe, please stop. Yer not exactly flatterin’ me.”

Color tinged Hanzo’s cheeks.

“Yes, of course. That was rude of me. I will do better in the future. Now, if you could please leave so that I can return to my exercises.”

“Aw I was hopin’ to stay,” Jesse pouted. Hanzo glowered at him. Jesse held his hands up and laughed it off. “I was jokin’. Sure thing, darlin’.” He was a little disappointed that Hanzo was turning him away, but Jesse knew what Hanzo’s opinion of him was. 

Although, as he left, Jesse supposed he should be over the moon that he’d gotten Hanzo’s opinion of him to be much better than it had been before. He replayed their conversation in his head, and somehow it slipped his mind that his third cigarette had gone to waste.

And that his hat was pinned to the wall, destroyed by an arrow.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the response to this was really overwhelmingly positive. Thank you all so, _so_ much for your kind comments and kudos, I really appreciated them! Thank you again for reading! I hope you enjoy this next part. It's a bit shorter, my apologies.

Jesse rolled his head back against the grass, feeling the blades tickle the back of his skull. His hair was already fairly long and unkempt, and he was sure that he was only making it worse, but he found that he couldn’t care as he lounged. Jesse breathed in the thick, humid air.

He could smell the damp ground from rain earlier in the day that was slowly drying up, only to stick around in the air for a while longer. The chefs of the Shimada Castle had started cooking for dinner hours ago, and the smell of it was heavenly. After three days of the food, Jesse still couldn’t get over the smells that permeated the air. However, the smells of the food were nothing compared to the scents wafting from his companion.

Hanzo smelled fresh and clean from his bath, the peppery soap that he liked combining in impossibly delicious ways with the somewhat softer coconut hair products that he used. He had only the faintest undertones of sweat from his workout that morning. Jesse knew that Hanzo disappeared into the back of the castle grounds every morning and every night to train relentlessly. Whether it was of necessity or to clear his thoughts, Jesse didn’t know. He hadn’t asked, either. He could swear that he still felt the sting of Hanzo’s arrow zipping across the top of his head, and Hanzo had yet to stop glaring at Jesse.

Overlaying both his soap and his sweat was the scent that Jesse had come to realize was distinct to only Hanzo and one more person in the house—though Jesse, to his dismay, had yet to meet that other person. Perhaps they could offer him company and companionship when Hanzo—frequently—refused. The scent was like the air before a storm that promised heavy thunder and lightning, and buckets upon buckets of rain. If Hanzo was in a good mood, the scent shifted to that peculiar smell that the earth and plants had post-rain.

Jesse rolled his shoulders, a little groan escaping him as he shifted his loose, relaxed muscles. It was rare for Jesse ever to catch Hanzo in a good mood. Hanzo still looked at Jesse like a bug that ought to be squashed, but there hadn’t been any more threats. Maybe in three more days, Hanzo would stop glaring. Jesse could only hope.

The heat penning Jesse in from all around was nothing like the scorchers back in New Mexico. The cool temperatures predicted by his phone and the weathermen were deceptive when paired with the humidity that soaked the air. In the mornings and evenings, the chill was intense from the rain, but if he wasn’t careful, Jesse was going to bake in his black leather jacket under the unforgiving afternoon sun.

Jesse cracked his eye open at the sun above him but quickly shut it against the blinding light. A shame, because Jesse loved the views that various parts of the castle had to offer. Here and there on the trees, Jesse spied small green buds that promised to bloom into full leaves. Jesse smiled at the thought. What he wouldn’t give for a shady tree to lounge under for hours on end. The promise sounded more beautiful than anything else Hanamura had to offer at the time, but he doubted the leaves would unfurl before he had to head back to New Mexico. 

He stretched his legs out in front of him, pointed toes and all, and groaned happily at the stretch pulling his body tight.

“Are you quite comfortable?” Hanzo asked, sounding just as annoyed as he had been earlier in the day when Jesse fetched him.

Jesse nearly jumped. He’d been so absorbed in _just_ how comfortable he was, that if it hadn’t been for Hanzo’s smell, he would have forgotten Hanzo was there at all. Jesse shoved himself up to perch on his elbows. He peered over at Hanzo, who hadn’t moved since he’d sat down next to Jesse a few hours before. The only giveaway that he was starting to become uncomfortable was the twitching of his hands in his lap and the fidgeting of his feet behind him.

“As a matter of fact,” Jesse said, “I am.”

He stretched his back, curving it away from the ground with another long, luxurious groan. Next, to him, Hanzo let out a low, annoyed sigh. Jesse snickered to himself. It didn’t take long before he was bored again. Jesse fell back onto his back and tucked his hands behind his head. He longed for his hat, to tip it down over his face and shield him from the sun’s rays.

Unfortunately, a certain _somebody_ —not that Jesse was going to name names, but their name started with an H and ended with an O, and they just so happened to be sitting three feet away—had demolished Jesse’s hat. 

It was the morning after their encounter, when Jesse, bleary and sleep-deprived, stumbled his way to Hanzo’s shooting range. Jesse leaped and leaped for his hat like a dog jumping for a treat. Why was it his luck that Hanzo had been aiming up at such a steep angle? Jesse supposed it was better than having the arrow pointed a little downward and nailing him in the eyeball.

After a few minutes of fruitless jumping, Jesse snagged the arrow and then found that pulling the shaft out of the wall was the next impossible challenge. It took all of his might, and then some, to yank the arrow from the wooden wall. Jesse had no doubts that it had gone all the way through the wall and to the other side.

Once it’d been yanked free, and Jesse was on his ass on the ground, it didn’t take much examination to realize that his hat was toast. Jesse stared at the fraying edges and the ugly holes going from one end to the other miserably. There was no use crying over spilled milk.

That didn’t mean that Jesse wasn’t ticked off. In his opinion, Hanzo owed him a hat.

He had no idea how much time passed, with him ruminating about his demolished hat before he began to strive for something to do. He wanted a cigarette between his teeth or a stick of gum to chew on or somebody actually to talk to. It seemed like most of his time at Shimada Castle was spent bored or lonely or both.

Jesse peeked an eye open to look at Hanzo again. He sat a respectful distance away from Jesse, but Jesse knew that he wanted nothing more than to be even farther away. Jesse wondered, not for the first time if his scent was repulsive to Hanzo. That would be a shame because Hanzo smelled like the pearly gates themselves to Jesse.

“So, how old’re you?” Jesse asked, disturbing the quiet once more.

Jesse felt more than heard Hanzo’s disappointment.

“You know that we do not have to speak to each other, correct?” Hanzo growled.

“Ain’t we s’posed to be on a date er somethin’?” Jesse replied. “I thought this was all ‘bout getting’ to know each other? ‘Sides, yer guards’re gonna start gettin’ real suspicious if they begin to notice we ain’t talkin’.”

“They’re here simply to make sure that there is no inappropriate contact,” Hanzo said. He had yet to open his eyes or acknowledge Jesse with more than just his words. “If they report our lack of conversation to my father, it would not be hard to convince him that we were enjoying our time together quietly. Which is what I would prefer we do.” Hanzo glanced down at Jesse finally. “Besides, I do not believe that it is much of a date if we are at my home, being supervised,” Hanzo finished. If Jesse wasn’t wrong, he heard a little bit of bitterness in Hanzo’s voice.

Jesse hummed quietly. Hanzo did have more than a few good points. Jesse closed his eyes and settled himself for a few more hours of boredom until dinnertime called them away. He wanted to get to know his fiancé, but he’d told Hanzo that first night that he would respect Hanzo’s wishes. If Hanzo wanted peace and quiet, then Jesse would do his best to give it to him. Even if it left him with nothing to do but count down the seconds until dinner.

Which made it all the more shocking when Hanzo spoke.

“I am twenty-four,” he said.

Jesse shot upright, his face splitting into a grin. “Yer older’n me!” he exclaimed.

Hanzo arched an elegant eyebrow at Jesse. “You act as if this is new knowledge,” he scolded.

Jesse pouted, feeling chastised. “I came to this place not knowin’ more’n yer last name,” he said. 

That time, Hanzo raised both eyebrows. He then furrowed them and frowned.

“Are you serious?” he asked.

“Serious as a heart attack,” Jesse answered. “Didn’t know yer first name or even what ya looked like ‘til the other day.”

“I had the most basic details,” Hanzo replied. “Your picture. Your name, age, where you were born.”

“At least you knew somethin’,” Jesse growled, doing his best not to be bitter.

Hanzo made a soft noise under his breath. He shifted back and forth for a moment, before settling once again. When Jesse looked over at him, he had moved to sit cross-legged, looking infinitely more comfortable than moments before.

“I suppose, if you are curious, you may ask me a few questions,” he tentatively said.

Jesse’s jaw dropped. “You mean yer willin’ly offerin’ up information about yerself?” he asked.

Hanzo scowled. “Do not squander your chances, Jesse McCree,” he warned.

“I won’t, I won’t,” Jesse promised. He scrambled to sit up, even going so far as to turn to face Hanzo directly, even if Hanzo wouldn’t do the same for him. Jesse prayed he wasn’t pushing his luck already. “What can I ask?”

Hanzo looked at him in utter confusion. “What is the point of asking me what you are allowed to ask?” he balked.

“I don’t wanna step on any toes,” Jesse answered. “I know there’s some things y’ain’t gonna wanna share, and I’d like ta do my best to avoid those things.”

Hanzo slowly schooled his expression back into its impassive mask. “You are a confusing man, McCree,” he said. “I have never met anyone quite like you, alpha or not.”

“Is that a good thing?”

“Is that one of your questions?”

Jesse groaned loudly. “What? They got a number on ‘em now?”

“If you continue to ask stupid questions, then yes,” Hanzo answered curtly.

“Awright,” Jesse muttered. He leaned back on his hands, glancing Hanzo up and down. His eyes were closed again, blocking Jesse out as much as he could. “Where were ya born?”

“In this castle,” Hanzo answered. “The traditions of our family are very deep-seated. My mother was refused a hospital, but she did have the best care and doctors that money could buy.”

“Anyone else born here?” Jesse asked.

“My father, his siblings. My father’s father and his siblings. It goes on for as long as this castle has been Shimada Castle,” Hanzo explained.

“Seems like everyone’s got siblings, do you?” Jesse prodded.

Hanzo’s expression soured. “Yes,” he said.

“How many?”

“Just the one,” Hanzo replied. “I am amazed that you have no run into him yet. He is insatiable in his curiosity and has been asking after you since you arrived.”

“Would’ya tell me a bit about him?” Jesse asked.

Hanzo’s expression soured further. Jesse already knew, without Hanzo saying anything, that he had crossed that invisible line. What’s done is done, Jesse supposed. The question was out there for Hanzo to do as he wished.

“I would prefer not to,” Hanzo answered in a growling tone. “Our relationship is rocky, at best.” Hanzo paused, with a little furrow to his brows. He looked shocked that he had said anything about his brother at all. “I think that is enough questions for now.”

Jesse balked. “I only asked like two things!” he argued.

Hanzo shot him a glare, and if looks could kill, Jesse would already be six feet under in a box.

Jesse backed off immediately. He flopped back down onto the grass and set his hands on his stomach. 

“No more questions,” he finally agreed. He longed to ask more, but he reminded himself of Hanzo’s boundaries. If this was going to work out, then he needed to be patient. 

Jesse glanced over at Hanzo, who still looked mildly uncomfortable despite the various ways he had tried sitting. Jesse reached out and patted the damp grass next to him.

“Wanna lay down?” Jesse suggested.

Hanzo whipped his head around so fast Jesse could hear the whiplash. He looked horrified at even the mention of laying down on the grass. Slowly but surely, his surly expression began to soften. Somewhat awkwardly, Hanzo shifted to lay down on the grass, still a proper distance away from Jesse. Having done his job, Jesse pulled his hand back to rest on his stomach.

“This feels absurd,” Hanzo grumbled.

Jesse barked a loud laugh, suddenly enough that Hanzo’s shoulders jolted.

“Ain’t you ever just laid down before?” Jesse asked. “What? You go to bed sitting up, too?”

“That would be even more absurd,” Hanzo snapped.

Jesse, despite Hanzo’s sour attitude, snickered. At least Hanzo was talking to him some more. “Well, that’s a weight off my chest. Good to know I’m gonna be marryin’ someone who’s a human.”

Hanzo growled low in the back of his throat at the suggestion. 

Jesse grimaced. Just when he’d gotten on Hanzo’s moderately-good side, he’d gone and shoved his foot into his mouth. His sigh was perfectly timed with Hanzo’s. It was good to know that Hanzo wasn’t angry enough to make a bow and arrow magically appear and shoot Jesse. For all the screw-ups he was making, Jesse was confident that he deserved at least a punch to the arm. But the blow never came.

Thankfully.

Jesse didn’t want to imagine what kind of blows Hanzo could dish out. 

“Just… wake me up when it’s dinnertime, alright?” Jesse asked. “I’ll let you do your thing.”

He closed his eyes against the sun, longing once again for a hat. It didn’t take long for him to drift off, either way. Foot in his mouth and berating himself for putting the said foot in his mouth, Jesse was still strangely comfortable and relaxed stretched out on the grass in Hanzo’s presence.

Just as he was about to drift away into a dreamless sleep, he heard Hanzo speak, although he wasn’t sure that he was meant to.

“If you would like, you may ask more questions tomorrow,” he said softly.

Jesse hummed in response. Hanzo breathed in sharply through his nose. Now Jesse was positive that he wasn’t meant to hear that, but it was too late.

“Sure thing, sugar,” he murmured.

**Author's Note:**

> Like what you read? Consider leaving a comment and or kudos!
> 
> Twitter: @Nonmurdering  
> tumblr: @friendlymurdering


End file.
